A silent good morning
Good morning are the words said in
a whisper across the wind. Perhaps only to pretend
someone heard is nice. The softness of cooling wind
after a struggling night. One infused with pressure
upon temples and deep into lungs.
Dear me, I only want to talk yet no
human interaction. Alas to find myself just absorbing
all that is still, all that is opened before me. I inhale.
Preparing for what lies ahead. Not too
concerned about the weights but a bit sad. No no not
going into details just a low frown.
Still I dance over the loss and gain
strength when tears want to follow. Ah a sigh is
a strong performance and relaxation seems so far
away.
What can I say but hello. All in hopes
one is placed back. So here I dream that confusion,
distance in trials and icey roads cease, fading into
a heated fog. Oh it is good to dream.
Still the whisper of good morning arrives
on a doorstep. Not knocking just hoping the words
enter the mind. Indeed to make the right effort
seem empty I must admit nothing bothers me whether
an answer is there or not.
That, though, would be a lie.
Yet another thing Jehovah is helping me
find grounds in my spirit to forgive. Ah yes forgiveness.
An act of pure love and kindness. That I indeed
give because I don't know where else to go.
Placing the opened layers before you.
I hope you give a moment of your time to respond in
some kind manner. To give me more hope that the
lives lived are intertwined in a loving familiar way.
Alas I can hope as the cool breeze brings
chills upon paleness, lifting mass copper in a waltz.
Indeed I dream of beginning the words again. So
here, please, I inquire of you will the hello and
good morning bounce into your doorway, your
window?
Indeed a hope. So I say good morning once
more. Smiling as the wind comforts me. Just start
once again, I hope, I beg of you.
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